


i don't mind the sun sometimes

by Tat_Tat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a trip into Gravity Falls woods together, Mabel gets lost. Dipper and Pacifica are forced to cast aside their differences in order to find her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The ground gave slightly as they stepped into the forest. Rainwater dripped from low-hanging branches and hung, gray and cloying in the air. Pacifica tugged on the front of her cashmere shirt, disgusted that it was already sticking to her skin. Dipper’s gaze fell on her and she dropped her hand, raising her upper lip, as if to ask why he was staring.

Dipper rolled his eyes, amazed that in a matter of seconds his day had been ruined. This morning he had been looking forward to investigating the giant footprints he and Mabel had found in the forest yesterday. He was packing his bag with provisions when Mabel jumped on his bed. 

“Heeey, um, Dipper?”

Dipper didn’t look up, adding three more granola bars and a flashlight into the bag. “Yeah?”

Mabel had sucked in a breath, like she was ready to blow out candles on a birthday cake. “SoIforgotIhadplanswithPazbutIinvitedhertocomewithusI’mgonnagobeforeyouprocessthisrun-onsentence. Byyyyeeeee.”

She had jumped off the bed, making a beeline for the stairs. Unbeknownst to Mabel, Dipper could process that sentence. After twenty-three years together he could translate everything his sister said. Her friends always asked him what his secret was. He liked to claim they had crazy twin telepathy powers. They didn’t.

As much as Dipper wanted to say that Pacifica wasn't allowed to come, he couldn’t. He could however say, “Fine!” in the most passive-aggressive tone possible-- and he did-- but Mabel was downstairs and out of earshot. 

X

At least one thing was going right: Dipper was relieved that the footprints he and Mabel had been following were not completely washed away by the rain. They probably would have solved the mystery yesterday if Grunkle Stan hadn't called them when they were halfway into the woods. He had said it was an emergency (they had run out of milk) .

“What--?” Pacifica muttered under her breath. 

“Aren’t they big!” Mabel beamed, taking out a tape measure. “I bet he... or maybe she has a hard time finding shoes.”

“Mabel, monsters don’t go shoe-shopping.”

“Well!” Mabel stomped, and put her hands on her hips. “Maybe they would if their shoe size was available. Right, Pazzie?”

Pacifica was just as perplexed as Dipper, but unlike him, was unused to Mabel’s bizarre ideas. Dipper smirked, wondering how Pacifica was going to handle this one when her mouth closed and she gently smiled. “I don’t know anything about monsters, but my dad says that if you build it, they will come.” 

“Hah! See, Dipper.”

“Although... you should probably concentrate on your yarn store for right now.”

“Oh... riiight. Still! Future ideas. Maybe I should start an Etsy shop first. Oooh. But do monsters use the internet? Dipper! What does your journal say about that? Dipper...?”

Dipper rolled his eyes, walking between the two women, following the footprints, trying to block out the playful exchange between his sister and her girlfriend. The urge to strangle Pacifica was growing stronger by the second. 

Out of all the people Mabel had dated, Dipper had decided Pacifica was the worst. Okay, Gideon really was the worst, but Pacifica had very nearly taken first prize. Dipper didn’t trust Pacifica. He did once and she had taken it for granted. The night after the party she refused to speak to him and Mabel, her nose in the air and the gates to Northwest Manor firmly locked. He had thought she had changed. He decided he was wrong.

Mabel was kinder than him and believed people could change. She was willing to give Pacifica a third shot at redemption. Honestly, he felt one chance was too much. 

He couldn’t fathom why Pacifica of all people would be in love with Mabel. Mabel would boop him on the nose and tell him it was so obvious: “I’m adorable!”

But Dipper was too suspicious and pessimistic to believe that, and while Mabel would gush over her dates and squeal over the lavish gifts, Dipper couldn’t help but try to pick apart every detail and come up with hypotheses of how everything would lead up to the final moment of Pacifica’s grandiose scheme. Whatever that was. Dipper had decided that Pacifica would hurt Mabel and he couldn’t let that happen. Except it probably would, because they had been together for a solid six months and that made the longest relationship Mabel ever had. 

It hurt Dipper to see Mabel happy with Pacifica, because he knew Pacifica would inevitably hurt his sister. Even with Mabel’s big heart in mind, Dipper couldn’t see how Mabel could forgive Pacifica. Mabel had never forgiven Gideon, why was Pacifica any different?

And why had she even bothered coming, Dipper wondered, glaring. The blonde wiped her brow for the seventh time since they had started and complained about the heat and bug bites on her ankles. Her clothes were ridiculously expensive for an outdoor adventure: a thin cashmere shirt and white dress pants. She was wearing sneakers, at least, when Dipper had expected her to wear heels. However, he had noticed her look at her shoes in disdain, worried about the mud and grass stains marring the purple and pink colours. 

“No one’s forcing you to come with us,” Dipper grumbled. 

Pacifica looked up from her sneakers, annoyed. A retort was at the tip of her tongue but one look from Mabel silenced her. She was trying, even if Dipper wasn’t. 

X

“Dipper! Why are you being such an ultra butt today?!” Mabel hissed. 

“I dunno, Mabel. Why did you think someone like her could go on an adventure with us?” Dipper groused exasperatedly. Fifteen minutes and ten sarcastic retorts between him and the heiress later, Dipper had had enough. “She has to go-- sorry, Mabes. I just... I can’t do this.”

Mabel’s face fell, wearing the expression of a lost puppy. “...Why not? You’re my friend, and she’s my friend, so why can’t you both get along?” Her brows knit. “You’re just not trying!”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Paz was trying really hard to be nice to you. Even when you were being a jerkus maximus.”

Dipper crossed his arms. “Look, Mabel, I didn’t want to have to tell you this. I was hoping you would figure it out on your own like you always do, but you can’t trust Pacifica.”

Mabel snorted. “Why you gotta be so paranoid, Bro-bro? We’ve been dating for six months. I think she would have done something before now... besides. She bought me a yarn store! A yarn store, Dipper! No one does that unless they are head over heels in love. Plus, I’m adorable. End discussion.”

“Fine. Whatever. You’re in love.” Dipper threw his hands in the air. “Nothing new there. But this investigation was going to be our thing, Mabel. Pacifica isn’t really... you know...” He tilted his head in Pacifica’s direction. Mabel followed his gaze then turned back to him, confused.

“She’ll just get in the way. She’s not having fun out here with us, anyway.”

“The only reason she isn’t having fun is because you decided to be a poophead. Besides, Soos and Wendy used to hang out with us too, and you never complained.” She elbowed him playfully, winking. “Especially when Wendy tagged along. Wink wink.”

Dipper swatted her elbow away. “Wendy was different!” He adjusted the bill of his cap to hide his blush. Even years later Mabel could fluster him over his old crush. 

 

"So like, are we going to follow these freakshow footprints or are you two going to keep whispering? Cause it's hot and I'm bored," Pacifica interrupted.

"Okay, maybe you do have a point. But you have to promise me you'll try to spend quality time with us this week. We could do a game night! Oh! Oh! Charades! I'm gonna totally kick both your tushes.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, pulling the journal out of his vest, a signal to the end of the discussion if Mabel would allow it. "Yeah, sure. Just send her back home. This may be our last chance to investigate the footprints-- it looks like it's going to rain again." He kneeled on the ground in front of the monster tracks and set the journal beside him, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He heard Mabel's footsteps trail away, and though he pretended to be engrossed in his research, he kept an ear open to eavesdropping and occasionally glanced over his shoulder, curious as to how Pacifica would react. It was a toss up between her stomping away, offended, or snorting, giving that look of disgust he hated. He placed his bets on the latter but hoped for the former. Maybe it would incite a fight between the two women and Mabel would finally dump Pacifica. 

Surprisingly, neither happened. The ground rumbled under them, and Dipper hastily tucked the journal back in his vest. He looked in the two ladies' direction, checking on Mabel, and saw them looking overhead. He followed their gaze, and then his jaw dropped.

Only five feet away from the trio was a four-legged beast, tall as the treetops, its form hidden in the green leaves and pine needles. Its legs were long and firm, as wide and round as a steel beam with green scales. Its feet were a perfect match for the footprints, talons glinting in the sun. It bellowed loudly, stirring the birds from the trees. Dipper and Mabel instinctively ran to each other. Mabel held Pacifica's hand in a deathgrip, and with her other reached for Dipper but they were too far apart and the ground began to stir unsteadily under their feet as the beast tromped around. The quake it created ruffled the earth, sending rocks and soil tumbling towards them. He fought against the moist clay and soil clinging to his shoes, still reaching for Mabel. Her fingertips grazed his, and with a second sweep of her hand, she caught his. The stomping continued and they all resisted the urge to cover their ears as the creature yelled.

"I've got you, Mabel!" Dipper said.

Mabel's eyes widened. "Dipper!"

Dipper followed her line of sight, turning his head. He never did see what was coming towards them. Everything went black. The only thing he was aware of was his grip growing slack, hand slipping from Mabel's as she tore her fingernails into his skin and held on until the tumult of the landslide ripped them apart from each other.

X

Dipper woke up, his head as foggy as the air around him, drenched in sweat and rain. A soft drizzle tickled his forehead. He suspected that what woke him. He sat up suddenly, body wavering and dizzy, holding his head. He felt like a semi truck had run him over and then parked. 

As everything came into focus around him, his surroundings and memory, he hurried to his feet, reaching for his cap on reflex. Of all things, it had stayed on his head the whole time. He was relieved also that the journal was still tucked in his vest. But neither of those items were as important as what he had just lost. He stared at his hand, embedded with the red scratch marks his sister left behind as she struggled to hold onto him. 

He forgot or chose to forget that Pacifica was also missing. His attention was wholly bent on Mabel's safety. 

He didn't recognize this part of the forest. The trees were bent, the branches crudely crooked like dislocated limbs. Moss and leaves sprung from damp, cracked tree trunks. Branches from nearby trees curled into those open nooks, and Dipper could not tell where one tree ended and another began. He felt their limbs wrap around him like a wooden cage. He stepped around the branches and trunks and occasionally he tripped. He wasn't sure if he had accidentally caught his foot on a root or if it had just swept under him. He was nervous enough already and chose not to think too much about it. It helped to think of his sister, even as wet leaves slid against his body, clumsily grasping for him. Eventually he found an open part of the forest and ran away, the woody sounds calling after him. 

The trees here were sparse, unlike the ones before. They seemed to shift away from him as he passed. The ground under his sneakers was coated in year-old, wet, autumn leaves blending in the red soil. He wasn't sure where he was, or where he was going, or how he was going to find Mabel. He was still adjusting to the separation, mind racing. They had gone on adventures since they were twelve, and until now had never been separated. Dipper was unprepared for this. 

Out of breath after walking for nearly two hours, he rested on a boulder. He propped the journal on his knee, flipping through the pages. Perhaps something in there could give him a clue as to where he was. After eight years having the journal in his possession he had it perfectly memorized, but there was always the chance that he had missed something or could find something new. That's why, despite his picture-perfect memory, he kept it close. 

The eerie trees from earlier were the reference he used, but there was no such entry. He closed the journal, giving a resigned sigh. He could very easily wander these woods forever. His skin bristled, imagining a Rip Van Winkle experience: successfully escaping the woods, but all his years catching up to him, his bones turned into dust. Anything was possible in Gravity Falls, and he reminded himself that that included anything he could do, as well. With newfound vigor he continued his search. The day was running long, the sunlight filtering through the treetops burnt orange. He was running out of sunlight. He was tired but he wasn't ready to rest yet. 

It wasn't that he thought Mabel couldn't take care of herself. She was a capable woman who had saved his skin more times than he could count. It was a combination of his protective instinct as his family, and loneliness. There were few times that he and Mabel were apart, but it had always been short moments, and he was always aware of where his sister was. They couldn't even bear to go to separate colleges, deciding on a campus in Portland, Oregon, and though they didn't share a room they did rent a two bedroom apartment together. 

Dipper had hoped that if Mabel's boyfriends knew she lived with her brother, that would scare them away from spending the night. He never predicted that would be the least of his worries. The first two months of the semester Mabel had, as he thought, went to late night parties and raves. In less than three weeks she had four boyfriends-- at the same time. But three weeks later her harem had disbanded. At least she never brought them home, Dipper thought, pretending that Mabel didn't go to their place instead. 

After that Mabel spent most of her time at their apartment and it felt like that period in their life before high school. Mabel would turn on Netflex, marathoning season after season of Baking Bad, humming and knitting her latest project enthusiastically. Dipper read a book or did his homework, her feet in his lap. 

That slowly began to change , though he didn’t notice it until it was too late. If he were to surmise when Mabel’s relationship with Pacifica started, it would be that night he passed by Mabel’s room and stopped dead in his tracks, hearing Pacifica’s familiar valley girl accent. Concern twisted in his gut and he was already planning an intervention in his head for later when he saw the soft blue glow of the television screen in the corner of the room. Of course, he rolled his eyes at himself, it was just that reality TV show Mabel liked. What was it called? The Uncomplicated Life? Something about rich people attempting middle class labor. 

Two weeks later Mabel's relationship status changed in his Facehook feed. His phone screen cracked in half when he dropped it, shocked by the news. 

"Is it because she's a girl?" Mabel had asked, crestfallen.

Dipper had paused at that, not expecting that question. "No," he finally said.

“She said she was sorry,” Mabel reassured. “That’s how we started talking again-- she messaged me on Facehook...“ Mabel shrunk slightly at Dipper’s frown, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry! We’ll still spend plenty of time together, bro-bro. Nothings gonna change!”

Except it did. 

The apartment was so quiet on the weekends that Dipper had to turn on Netflex himself for background noise. His lap was oddly cold. 

So why did he think things would change if they went back to Gravity Falls for summer vacation together? He didn't, truthfully, but Mabel was persistent, and he had already decided to come. He dreaded the idea of an empty apartment three months straight. 

Coming across the footprints yesterday, before Grunkle Stan had called, had given the twins a burst of long-needed nostalgia. In one afternoon, he forgot the emptiness of the apartment, once again sharing the attic room with Mabel. He felt like a kid again, free from adult responsibility (even if it was only for three months), his mind fully devoted to the curiosity that made his heart race. Life outside of Gravity Falls had been comfortable-- too comfortable and stagnant. He could predict how his day would be back home with their parents or at their apartment in Portland, but in Gravity Falls he wasn't sure what would happen. It scared him. It made him feel alive, the discovery of something new. Only theories had woken him from the coma of the mundane. 

He had also felt close to Mabel again, who had spent more time (in his opinion) with Pacifica in the last six months. They had fallen into their old camaraderie within seconds of boarding the bus to Gravity Falls. They exchanged Pokemon on their DS's and whispered stories about the three other passengers on the bus. (Word was, Mr. Littleton was on his way to meet the love of his life-- a llama!) When there was nothing else to do Mabel had lifted up the seat cushion, pointing out a piece of lint that looked like Abe Lincoln's face. Dipper had also advised her not to eat the chocolate coin she also found under the seat. That hadn't discouraged her.

Everything was just starting to make sense again and Dipper was happy. And then Mabel had to invite Pacifica, reminding Dipper that he was second. Maybe that was exaggerating, but that's certainly what he felt lately.

The sky was purple overhead and gray around the edges, darkening steadily. There was no point stumbling in the dark so he decided to search for a spot to rest. There were no caves nearby and if it hadn't been for the patch of tangled trees he fell into earlier, he would be inclined to rest his back against the bark of one of the proud pines surrounding him. The ground was damp and promised to be uncomfortable. He had no expectation for sleep to come to him at all. 

An owl swooped overhead, its wings ruffling his curly hair. It cooed ominously, large yellow eyes bright in the dark. Dipper turned away, the direct eye contact disconcerting. He heard a voice echo in the forest and thought it was the owl again until he started to think he heard words. A human voice (he hoped). 

A spark of hope ignited in his chest, but from experience, he reached in his back pocket for his pocket knife, slowly unfolding the blade from its sheath. 

“...Please be human,” he prayed.

“...El...!”

A shadow started to emerge. The form flickered and Dipper swallowed, gripping the knife.

Footsteps hurried towards him, then paused, as if registering him in the dark was hard to them as well. Then the person bounded towards him, and wrapped their arms around him, shouting, “Mabel!”

Dipper stiffened, the breath knocked out of him. A pair of slim arms clenched around his sides in a firm hug, and the unfamiliar scent of a floral perfume filled his senses. That, and the name this person called out, told him immediately this was not his sister. 

“Pacifica?!” he gasped, breathing again. The knife was inches away from her head, his hand shaking. He dropped the weapon, suddenly relieved that it wasn't a wild animal or monster. Well, he grimaced. This was Pacifica. The monster part was debatable. But aside from her nasty remarks, the woman was harmless. 

Pacifica’s hands dropped to her sides, perplexed. 

“...Dipper?” He found it strange that there wasn’t disgust in her voice, only sorrow. “I thought you were Mabel,” she explained.

“I thought you were a monster,” Dipper said sullenly, picking his knife up from the forest floor and tucking it in his back pocket. He had hoped he had found Mabel too. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Pines.” Pacifica crossed her arms. 

“What were you thinking, running into me like that? It’s not safe here. I could have been anything,” Dipper admonished. 

Pacifica didn't answer him, walking closer to him. In any other situation he would mind it, but it was so dark that it was comforting to know that there was someone beside him. They silently sat on the forest floor together, and Dipper told her he’d watch first so she could sleep.

Neither of them slept. Pacifica broke the silence, much to Dipper’s chagrin. “Where are we?”

After much deliberation, Dipper admitted, “I don’t know.”

“When I woke up I was surrounded by gnomes. They proposed to me.” Pacifica shivered, not from the cold.

Dipper raised a brow. “Really? Me and Mabel set them up with McGucket years ago.”

Pacifica dryly laughed. “Guess they got divorced. Shmebbles--”

“Shmebulock,” Dipper corrected.

“What’s-his-name said their old bride tried to eat them.”

“How did you escape?” Dipper was curious, and though he didn’t want to admit it, a touch impressed.

“I wrote them a check.” Pacifica shrugged. 

“Oh.” And Dipper was unimpressed once again. At least he didn’t have to worry about the gnomes kidnapping Mabel.

They sat in awkward silence, and after a time, Dipper started to think Pacifica had fallen asleep. But when he nudged her, her voice was fully alert, if strained. They switched shifts and Dipper closed his eyes, restlessly falling in and out of sleep until it was his turn to be look-out again. He suspected Pacifica slept as well as he did.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ugh, it’s like, still raining.” Pacifica pulled on the front of her shirt, sticking her tongue out in distaste as the fabric clung to her.

They had eaten a breakfast of the granola bars Dipper still had in his pants pockets once the dawn started to break. They didn’t rest a single moment as they ate, getting to their feet and walking. They were still unsure where to go, but Dipper at least had an idea of where they were now after Pacifica disclosed her run-in with the gnomes. They backtracked to the gnomes glen. Pacifica said that she and Mabel had held onto each other for a long time before blacking out. While the two of them couldn’t agree on a lot of things, they did agree they would most likely find Mabel close to where Pacifica landed. 

As they trudged through the muddy woods in stilted, awkward silence, Dipper became fiercely aware that until Pacifica, Mabel had been the only person with which he had spent this much time alone. The quiet was piercing, and he could feel her eyes glance over him more than once. He almost wished they were on better terms, to extinguish the uneasy feeling in his gut. And just to have someone to talk to. 

Pacifica must have also felt the same because she was the one to cleave through the silence. Her words like an axe, surprising Dipper. He didn’t expect either of them to strike up conversation. 

“So, like, you do this all the time?”

“What? Get lost?”

Pacifica gestured around them. “The mystery stuff. This... nerd=-” She bit her lip. “--this like, thing we’re doing now.”

Dipper shrugged, pointedly looking away from her, staring off into the distance, as if the tall trees and foliage were more interesting than her.

Pacifica abruptly stopped. “What’s your problem?”

Dipper’s footsteps tapered off. Before he could think to answer she continued.

“Mabel’s not here to stop you. Like, I’m fed up with your passive-aggressive comments and that way you look at me when--” She raised her brows as Dipper turned to face her. “--Yeah. That look. Anyways, let’s just get it over with.”

“Fine,” Dipper agreed, though his gut twisted. Alone and lost in the forest, they needed each other, and their chances of finding Mabel would drop if they argued. But he had so much he wanted to say to Pacifica that he'd bottled up. Things he couldn’t risk shouting at the blonde, lest Mabel take offense to it, pushing her farther away from him, and closer to Pacifica. He balled his fists up, shaking. “You’re just waiting to hurt Mabel.”

“Excuse me?” Pacifica growled. 

“Yeah. You’re just leading her on and then... I don’t know! I don’t trust you. You’ve never been nice to Mabel.”

“Never?” Pacifica’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up, disappearing into her bangs. “Only when we were like, ten.”

“Twelve.”

“Whatever. Point is, that was years ago. I’m sorry. Mabel forgave me, why can’t you? Is something I did when we were twelve enough to tarnish my image forever?”

“You did several things.” 

“In the past,” Pacifica reminded. “I don’t like that Pacifica any more than you do.”

“I just don’t think you’re right for Mabel. This is pointless.” He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re just going to break up with her eventually. Like everyone else.” He grumbled.

Pacifica smirked like the cat that caught the canary. “So that’s what this is about. You’re jealous.”

“What?” Dipper hissed, whirling his head.

“Mabel said you were never nice to anyone she dated. A little overprotective, aren’t we, Pines? Of Mabel... or maybe yourself?”

The realization startled him, something that may have flittered to the back of his mind brought to light. His distrust of Mabel’s partners was something he took on with a sense of pride, quietly labeling it as the protective brother role. He never considered, didn’t want to admit, that he was jealous that Mabel’s significant others drew Mabel’s attention away from him, that he felt lost when she had inside jokes he wasn’t a part of. That she was growing up, maybe even apart from him. 

He didn’t want to admit that it wasn’t just that he didn’t trust Pacifica, or anyone Mabel chose to date. That was a small part of it. It only escalated because all along he was the one being selfish. 

It was raining hard now. Dipper took a few steps back, red-faced with embarrassment and fury. He couldn’t think of a retort. He wanted to wipe that smug look off Pacifica’s face. 

His feet sank ankle-deep in mud, and as he took another step back his shoe slipped off and he fell backwards. His eyes rolled up and the breath was knocked out of him, seeing nothing but the tops of the trees below him wrapped in a sheer curtain of fog. His feet were skirting the edge of the cliff, and he was falling. In that moment, time slowed, his mind racing, taking in that he was about to hit the ground below, and what that would mean.

He screamed, arms reaching, flailing like he was drowning, his body sinking through the air. The rain was coming down harder, pelting him like cold spears. This was nothing like the bottomless pit. 

His eyes widened. What happened next surprised him more than the fall. A hand caught him just as he was about to disappear over the edge, clasped around his wrist. He gripped her tightly, all past reservation forgotten. He just wanted to live. 

Pacifica gasped, her feet digging into the mud, straining to keep her balance and not fall overboard with him. She deftly pulled the grappling hook from her side and pulled the trigger. The rope wound tightly around a nearby oak, securing them.

Trudging against the mud thick around her calves, Pacifica stepped back, dragging Dipper upwards until he grasped the edge and crawled the rest of the way. They didn’t let go of each other, holding on tightly even as they caught their breath, the rain slowly trickling away into a soft drizzle. 

“Why do you have Mabel’s grappling hook?” Where had she been keeping that all along? Dipper wondered in passing. “And you. . .you saved me?”

“ Mabel gave it to me this morning. Said I might need it. I didn’t believe her before but looks like she’s right. And,Uh, like, yeah. You’re a jerk. But you’re Mabel’s jerk. I couldn’t just let you fall to your death. You’re welcome.”

“Would have made things easier for you.”

Pacifica forced a smile. “Maybe. But Mabel would be sad. Plus, I don’t totally hate you, even if you seem to hate me.”

Their grip on each other loosened, but they didn't let go.

Dipper was having trouble soaking in what had just happened. The near-death experience that Pacifica had saved him from. He glanced between them. They were holding hands. 

Awkwardly he broke their grasp, looking away. Pacifica stared blankly at her hand, then to Dipper. “Whatever. If you wanted to fall so bad, just stand there and I’ll push.”

Dipper laughed dryly. “No thanks.” The snark and sarcasm was still in his voice, but there was the semblance of a smile that Pacifica hadn’t seen before. It was the first time she could see what Mabel loved about her brother so much. It was striking how Mabel’s sense of humor was straightforward, while Dipper’s was layered to the point that he sounded almost serious. Mabel had told her Dipper was bad at jokes. Pacifica was beginning to suspect that Mabel just couldn’t pick up on his.

Mabel...

A growing part of her wanted to hold his hand again, if only to feel closer to her missing girlfriend, and for some solace. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” Dipper scratched the back of his neck. Feeling Pacifica’s wide-eyed gaze on him, he adjusted the bill of his cap over his eyes. “You were...” He couldn’t believe he was admitting this. Twelve year old him would hate him for this. “...You were right about a lot of things.”

“Okay. Did the real Dipper get swapped with an alien?” Pacifica flicked the bill of his cap. “Who are you?”

“Drat. You caught me. My name is George from the year 3000, Pluto-- which is a planet despite what NASA has led you to believe.”

Pacifica playfully shoved him, standing to her feet. “All right, George. Does your mission include finding a Mabel Pines?”

“Definitely. The fate of Pluto rests on that lady’s shoulders.”

Although Pacifica found it strange to joke around at a time like this, she didn’t feel any shame. Relief poured over her nerves, and the good humor combined with the rush of adrenaline reinvigorated them in their search.

They exchanged stories, climbing uphill, weaving between trees and the tiny stampede of miniature deer. The rain had stopped and Pacifica said she was happy that her shirt was finally drying. She was also happy she hadn't picked out a white shirt, but she didn’t share that detail, conscious of the glances Dipper was making towards her. They were still awkward, but without the stink eye and brow furrowed in annoyance. The way he looked at her now was soft, eyes bright with curiosity. He blushed when she caught him and she wasn’t sure what to think when her cheeks reddened also. 

Which reminded her-- her make-up was smeared and runny. 

“Hold on a sec.”

She knelt at to the creek and scooped up a handful of water, splashing it in her face and rubbing out the remaining smears of foundation and mascara. She dreaded thinking about what she had looked like before she washed her face. 

“So that’s what you look like without make-up,” Dipper commented.

Pacifica dried her face with the end of her shirt, careful not to raise it up too high. She turned her face slightly away, embarrassed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone-- even her parents-- saw her without make-up. 

“Yeah, well, I lost my purse earlier and like now it’s all gross.” Her voice suddenly turned sharp. “What’s your point?”

“Nothing!” Dipper squeaked. “You... you look nice.” He whispered under his breath, perhaps thinking she didn’t hear, but he was just like Mabel on that front, only capable of stage whispers. 

“...Oh,” Pacifica responded without thinking. “Thanks.”

“...Did I just say that out loud...?” he muttered to himself again.

“Yes.” Pacifica said, walking past him, before he could see her own face, as flustered as his. 

X

“The reality TV show was the worst idea I ever had. Right after bringing v-necks back into style,” Pacifica admitted.

They were venting; first it was their shared worries about Mabel. Dipper reassured Pacifica that if Mabel could defeat a demon, she could handle anything. It was easy to say that. They couldn’t help but still worry. They slowly moved on from such worrisome talk, complaining about the weather, Pacifica’s parents (her mom was pushing her to start using lip injections), and Grunkle Stan’s socks (more effective than chloroform!). 

“I thought the v-necks were a great idea.” 

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I, um... tried wearing one once.”

“And?” Pacifica prodded.

Dipper bit the inside of his cheek, laughing nervously. “So you had a reality TV show?” 

“Yeah,” Pacifica said crisply. “And you had a v-neck.”

“Aaaand Mabel told me to burn it.”

Pacifica frowned slightly at that. “Do you think Mabel still hates me for that stuff back then? She says it’s fine, but... “ She chewed her lip. “... I mean. I was atrocious. I don’t blame her. But I still don’t want her to hate me.”

“How could you think Mabel hates you for that stuff? I’m the twin that holds grudges, remember?” He elbowed her, hoping to lighten the mood. Mabel was always better at that than him though. 

“I know-- it’s stupid. I just... sometimes I feel like everything is perfect and then I get afraid. That it’s not real or whatever. Dipper, until recently, people have only been interested in me because of my looks, money, or because I’m a Northwest.” She shrugged, pretending to be casual, crossing her arms protectively over her chest and shrinking into herself with doubt. 

“Take it from someone who is very perceptive at solving mysteries, and Mabel’s brother: you’re worrying about nothing. Mabel is like a lap dog. She doesn’t have it in her to hate someone, or not for long anyway. Plus, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. It’s... definitely something I’m unfortunately familiar with. She likes you. A lot. “

Pacifica’s eyes grazed over him. The wet leaves stirred under her tentative footsteps. 

“What about you, Dipper? Have you forgiven me?” 

Her voice was soft, unsure. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen for years, not since they had found the dusty old room in her mansion, and she'd had a flashlight in her lap and a forlorn expression dimming the shine of her diamond earrings. “I’m stronger now-- I’m not afraid of my parents anymore. I won’t take everything back like last time.”

She took his hand suddenly, squeezing earnestly, waiting for, needing his approval. 

An edge of hesitation rose in Dipper’s throat, but only for a moment. 

She had saved him: twice now. Not because anyone told her to, or for anyone’s approval. She had saved him then, and again for herself, because she cared about him. 

“Yes.” He found himself squeezing her hand back, only realizing his actions as her blue eyes widened-- then flitted away from his face.

“Hey, Pacifica?”

“...Yes?” 

“I’m losing circulation in my hands.”

She dropped his hands like a hot pan, her heart racing. Dread began to pour over her, like a spreading inkstain. She had no doubts as a child that she had had a crush on him then, but she thought the feelings had faded, squashed by her decision to run back into her parent’s arms and their rules. 

And then, she started dating Mabel. It was the first time Pacifica actually cared for the person she was dating, and assumed that it was because she had dated men before. She had just started to grow comfortable with the idea that she was a lesbian all along.

But she felt something inside her stir earlier after she saved Dipper, holding his hand for dear life, and again, just now. It was the same rush of blood she felt when Mabel’s fingers tiptoed up her arm, the same rush she felt the first time they kissed under a disco ball at the roller derby. 

Her feelings for Dipper had never faded. They were still there. She had just been in denial each time she told Mabel to invite Dipper to dinner or karaoke. He had always refused, and because the pain of rejection was too much, she chose to push her feelings to the backburner. Again. 

Even still, she had Mabel and that should be enough. She would tell herself these things until her heart quieted to a dull ache. 

She thought she had it all micro-managed and under control, until she saw him, surely as ever, looking at her. And their time together had quickly eroded the wall she built, laying her feelings bare and herself vulnerable. 

She loved him, and to acknowledge it finally exhilarated her, giving a sort of peace of mind, but with it came another reminder: She couldn’t imagine that Mabel-- that anyone-- would be okay with her wayward feelings. Mabel might even hate her for it.

Grudgingly, she closed her heart, forcing away the lingering sensation of Dipper’s warm hands, rough with cuts and calluses. She had to forget, to ignore the way he watched her as she moved. 

She had to forget everything, because it would never happen between them.

She found herself falling back, following him rather than standing by his side. She couldn't handle being too close to him right now. She had worked too hard to silence the pounding of her heart and her wandering thoughts. At one point she caught herself admiring his backside and turned her attention to her new sneakers. They were caked in mud and flecked with grass stains. The tongue of one of her shoes was lopsided and the right shoe was torn slightly at the toe. She was disgusted, but there was a bit of novelty in this. This was the first time she had ever worn anything she owned to the point that it did deserve to be thrown in the trash.

Dipper's footsteps suddenly stopped and she crashed into him. 

"Hey!" she shouted, jumping back from him.

Dipper didn't say anything. He was staring straight ahead. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered over his shoulder. Her lips thinned and she knit her brows, pushing Dipper aside. 

"What do you want?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Jeff looked up. Aside from the flecks of grey in his brown beard, it seemed he hadn't aged at all since Dipper had last seen him. He stood resolute, unfazed that Pacifica towered over him.

"I didn't think we'd run into you here." Dipper raised a brow, tilting his head. "Shouldn't you be in Las Vegas or the Bahamas after that check Pacifica gave you?" 

Running into the gnomes had never boded well for him and Mabel. The reason he had agreed to set them up with McGucket was to fix that, and the love potion Mabel still had in her possession had made that easy. But now they were all single, posing a threat to any available bachelorette. Immediately he walked between them, keeping Pacifica close to him. 

"Yeah. About that." Jeff crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "The check bounced."

Pacifica shifted slightly, surprised by the words. But these were gnomes. They could have easily made a mistake. She snickered at the thought of the gnomes stacked on each other’s shoulders like a totem pole to reach the bank teller window. 

“You must have cashed it in wrong. I’ll write you a new one.” 

She may have lost her make-up bag, but she still had a stack of checks in her back pocket, even though they were sodden.

"I'm not stupid. I cashed it in right." 

Pacifica's hand froze over her checkbook. "You're bluffing. Look. If you want more money you don't have to make up some story. I'll give it to you. Just get your low-quality pointy hats out of our way."

"I don't think you have any more money to give is the thing. You see, we're single and past ready to mingle. Dipper here understands where we're coming from--"

"Hey!"

"We were willing to let you go when you gave us that check before because we were only interested in your money. We have a clear view of your home. Not to be creepy. Just throwing that out there."

"That is creepy," Dipper pointed out.

"I didn't ask you!" Jeff barked, then relaxed. He uncrossed his arms and folded them neatly behind his back, looking over Dipper's shoulder (as best as a gnome could) to Pacifica. "To be honest, you're our last choice in a queen-- next to a llama, maybe."

"What?!" Pacifica shouted. "I'm at least a ten." 

"Why do you even care?!" Dipper exclaimed.

Jeff waved his hand, frowning. "Eh...I'd give you a four or five. We're desperate and lonely enough to take you, though. What do you say?" He started to bend down on one knee, brandishing a black velvet box.

"No."

"You have to wait until I open the box, honey." Jeff winked

"I said no. N. O." Pacifica stepped around Dipper and pressed her heel on the black box, smashing it into the mud. "And I'm not your honey."

"You probably shouldn't have done that," Dipper whispered. And for once it wasn't a stage whisper.

"Like I care."

"Oh, you'll care. We gnomes are a very--"

Dipper kicked Jeff away, grabbing Pacifica's hand. "Run."

"From these midgets?" Pacifica scoffed.

"It's 'little people'!" Carson corrected.

"Don't let them escaaaaape!" Jeff said, flying overhead to land in the bushes. 

At that the gnomes opened their mouths in unison, revealing sharp catlike teeth and growling like a pack of raccoons. Pacifica slapped away their onslaught, picking up speed, nearly dragging Dipper. 

"What do we do?" she said, gasping.

"As long as we keep them separated from Jeff, this should be simple. He's the leader and the rest are not as smart as him-- but they make up for that in speed!"

One of the gnomes latched onto Dipper's arm. He punched it, uprooting it from his arm, leaving a few of its canines behind. Pacifica's eyes widened over the wound briefly before having to swat and beat back more of the pack. 

"Please tell me they don't carry rabies."

"As far as I know: no." Dipper huffed. 

The collar of Pacifica's shirt ripped in a pair of tiny grabby hands. She slapped that gnome away, and searched their surroundings, which blurred around them as they ran ran ran. She caught sight of a branch and snapped it off a tree. It wasn't as sturdy as her golf club, or near as sharp as her fencing sword, but it was more effective than her fists. 

Just as she was feeling confident in this chase, a shadow fell over them. She tugged urgently on Dipper's hand. The hulking figure formed of thousands of gnomes was a breath away from her face, clipping her hair. 

At the very top of the pile was Jeff. 

"Why is it every time we find a queen you have to get in the way and keep her for yourself?" he shouted.

"First of all: Mabel is my sister." Dipper's face twisted at the thought. "And second... since when is kidnapping romance?"

"We've seen Fifty Shades. We know what human women want."

“I’m not even going to comment on that.”

Pacifica swung the branch at the legs and watched in horror as her weapon was swallowed by the mass of gnomes. Her hands and hair were quickly sucked in too, her feet barely skirting the ground. 

“Let her go!”

“Make us,” Jeff crowed. “There’s not a leaf blower to stop us now. Now if you’ll excuse us... we have an altar waiting.”

“Let go of me! Dipper! Dipper!” Pacifica screamed, her voice hitting a pitch that could make wine glasses shatter.

“Ugh! Stop screaming! You’re only making it awkward for all of us,” Jeff demanded, covering his ears.

A wave of memory hit Dipper, seeing not only Jeff but several of the other gnomes cover their ears against Pacifica’s screams. It was the same reaction as when Gideon used the pig whistle on the gnomes to turn them against him and Mabel. 

“Don’t listen to them, Pacifica! Keep screaming!”

“You! You stay out of this!” They gnomes swung at Dipper. The punch nearly landed in his gut but a high-pitched voice pierced the air, stopping them in their tracks. 

It wasn’t a scream. She was singing in high soprano, her voice crisp and clear as a bell. Dipper thought she sounded great, but a glance towards the gnomes told him they didn’t feel the same way. The giant hulk of their collaboration fell to pieces as they all cupped their hands over their ears in agony, tears running down their wrinkled faces. Several puked, the mud mixing in with a bright rainbow of vomit.

Pacifica nearly fell into the gnome puke, rolling to the ground. Dipper ran to her. “Are you okay?”

Pacifica fell into his arms. “Yeah. I only just almost got kidnapped and shanghaied into a wedding with a thousand tiny men... Of course I’m not okay!”

Dipper helped her to her feet, taking her hand again. “Let’s go.”

Pacifica nodded in agreement, jogging away. In the distance they heard Jeff groan, admonishing his fellow gnomes: “I told you we should have ordered that ball gag!”

X

“What made you decide to sing?” 

They were resting near the stream. Dipper had successfully pried all of the teeth out of his arm and was washing out the wound. Pacifica sat on a rock beside him, running her hands through her hair, working out the tangles. She smiled.

“Screaming seemed a little too typical.” She nudged him with her feet. “I’m smarter than I look. I noticed the gnomes’ reaction too.”

He caught her feet, making a disgusted face as he moved them out of his way. 

“Yeah?” He arched his brows, intrigued. 

“I just played dumb on TV. It’s what people wanted.” She crossed her arms, bunching herself in, uncomfortable. “You don’t actually believe that media garbage, do you?”

Dipper shrugged. “To be honest I didn’t even know you had a reality show until you told me. I just use my television for video games.” 

“Oh...” She slowly uncurled herself and returned to braiding her hair. “...Well, I’m not dumb. I speak three romantic languages, have high marks in maths, and--”

“Pacifica, will you stop it?” Dipper said. He watched her stop talking, her eyes wide and unsure of the meaning behind his words. He smiled slightly in reassurance. Maybe his tone was a little harsh, not to her but to the deep-seeded need to defend herself. 

“You don’t have to prove yourself,” he said.

“You don’t think I’m a bleach-blonde bimbo?”

“Whether your hair is real is debatable. But as for your intellect-- well, what do you think? It doesn’t matter what I think.”

She tied the end of her braid with a loose ribbon torn from her shirt, then turned to Dipper. “You’re wrong about my hair.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned. “Prove it.”

She pressed her feet against his chest, laughing at his face when it twisted. 

“I don’t have to prove it.” 

She gently shoved him into the shallow stream, then squealed as he took hold of her ankles, pulling her in with him. A resounding splash echoed around them and frightened black birds fluttered out of the trees, escaping to nearby branches. 

Cool water enveloped Dipper’s body and pooled around Pacifica’s legs. The sun was bright and visible with no trees blocking it. He squinted, blinded, and then Pacifica leaned forward, blocking its rays. She was pouting slightly, only playing mad. When she was truly mad, her upper lip curled into a sneer. “Great. I’m wet. Again. And I just dried off.”

Her hair was wet and undone, dripping on his face. His eyes chanced downwards. The collar of her shirt had been ripped and gave a generous view of her cleavage. Dipper yelped inwardly, forcing himself to look away and hoping Pacifica didn’t notice. It was tactless to check out his sister’s girlfriend, though knowing Mabel she would probably encourage it. Still tactless. He tried not to think about Pacifica’s weight on him, how it felt right and warm. She leaned forward, her breath warming his lips. 

“You’re heavy. Get off,” he said. He hoped to get a rise out of her. Maybe she would spring off him, taking the temptation to kiss her with her.

“No I’m not,” she argued, voice quiet. 

Her lips brushed his, and though he knew better, though she knew better, he cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer. Her lips were chapped and she tasted like fennel. She smelled ripe and woodsy; only traces of her floral perfume lingered, skirting his senses. 

“We should stop,” she whispered, making little effort to pull back.

“You started it.” His teeth grazed her bottom lip and she lost her reservations, sinking into him. She always did have a weakness for attention. She loved affection. She loved being touched and doted upon and she didn’t want to stop. She shook slightly in his arms. It was one thing to think these thoughts while dating Mabel, and an entirely different sin to act on them. Worse, she couldn’t stop.

“Dipper... Dipper...” she pleaded, tearing up. 

He felt her tense in his arms and stopped, pushing her upright. 

“...Sorry,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

“No. It’s my fault,” Pacifica admitted, reluctantly moving away from him, back to her rock. She rebraided her hair, and cursed that she had lost the tie.

They sat in silence after that, which lasted all through the night except for a tap on the shoulder when they were switching places as lookout. The air was tense. It was similar to their first night under the stars, but now for entirely different reasons. They understood their mutual feelings, but were unsure how to approach them. Or if they should.

“I won’t tell Mabel,” Dipper promised her in the morning. Pacifica should have been thankful but it only made her feel worse. It made her a liar, no different than her parents.


	3. Chapter 3

There were no more granola bars in Dipper’s pockets, not even crumbs. They ate red berries from a bush near the stream after seeing a deer eat them. Dipper tried to make idle conversation with Pacifica and failed. His head reeled, trying to think of safe topics. She had seemed upset since the kiss yesterday and barely said a word to him. She avoided looking at him, following the sound of his footsteps. 

There was a time when Dipper would have gone down on his knees and begged a higher power to silence Pacifica Northwest. Now that he knew her better, he didn’t want that anymore. He missed her voice and her company as much as he missed Mabel’s. He didn’t want this. The loneliness and the guilt. At least when he hated her he only felt numb. Now, his chest tightened and his mind raced. Mabel would forgive him, he had no doubt about that. But would she forgive Pacifica?

He had noticed over the years that Mabel sometimes dated more than one guy at the same time, or that her boyfriends sometimes had other girlfriends. But Mabel had always been in the loop then and had a degree of control. 

What he and Pacifica did was backhanded and wrong. There was no way around that and even knowing that Mabel would forgive him, and possibly also Pacifica, it was still wrong. That was disrespect for her. Just because she could forgive them didn’t mean they should take advantage of her kindness.

He couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had hoped they would break up. Now he was worried that they would. 

He looked out the corner of his eye. Pacifica had barely eaten any of the berries. She looked like a kid trying to desperately find her lost puppy. No amount of makeup could hide that.

“Hey... um... let’s play a game,” Dipper suggested.

Pacifica didn’t respond.

“I spy with my little eye... something red.”

She sighed. “Dipper, please. I don’t want to talk right now.”

“I said you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to tell Mabel.”

“It’s not that. I’m not worried about you telling Mabel. I’m worried about how she’ll react when I tell her.”

“Pacifica. You don’t have to. We can just keep it a secret and agree it will never happen again.”

A weak smile budged her frown. “Dipper. It’s sweet that you want to do that but I have to be honest with Mabel. Otherwise, I’m no different than my parents. I can’t bear to be that person again.” Pacifica sighed. “If Mabel hates me for it then I deserve it. I don’t care about the kiss, or the check bouncing. I just want to find Mabel. I’m worried about her.”

Despite what she said, Dipper saw the weight of all her other problems line her brow, barely visible under her bangs. Her smile slumped into a tight-lipped frown. Her eyes, normally a fierce steel blue, were mottled, gray, and sad. There were heavy dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress.

He did believe her when she said she was more worried about Mabel than anything else. He didn’t doubt Pacifica. Not anymore.

He wished that Pacifica would believe him too. He hated that downcast expression dulling her face. He missed the comfort of her voice singing softly, gently encouraging them as they walked. He wondered if he could ask her to at least give themselves that over this silence permeating, growing thicker by the minute. 

The question edged his lips, then his eyes widened.

Something familiar caught Dipper’s attention, bouncing off the setting sun’s light. Without saying a word he ran to the bushes and Pacifica followed. A bracelet hung off the shrub leaves. He remembered it distinctly because Pacifica had bought it for Mabel at the start of their relationship. He remembered when Mabel showed it off, thinking to himself that the bracelet was slim and classy. It wasn’t gaudy and didn't match Mabel's personality at all. 

“Mabel’s bracelet.”

“The tennis bracelet I bought her.”

They spoke in unison, then turned to each other. A mixture of relief, fear, and excitement turned their stomachs. Just as Dipper was contemplating which direction they should go, a scream sliced through the air. The color drained from their faces. 

“Mabel!” Dipper said.

“That way!” Pacifica pointed, running ahead of him.

They stomped through the brush and bramble, not minding the sticky burrs pricking their skin. Rocks and sticks stabbed Dipper’s shoeless feet like Legos strewn across the floor. The pain was fleeting with the adrenaline running through his veins. 

The screams escalated, and as they neared, began to sound crisper. Clearer. 

As much as they had hoped to find Mabel soon, they also hope they were wrong. That it was someone else. 

They hoped they weren’t too late.

Pacifica and Dipper leapt out of the bushes. Dipper flicked his pocket knife out, and Pacifica held the grappling hook with both hands. 

Their attention was immediately drawn to the long girthy legs in front of them, the rest of the monster’s body hidden in the treetops. Its scales gleamed mahogany, a sort of camouflage amongst the trees. Dipper and Pacifica recognized it instantly as the monster they had encountered days ago, whose avalanche of footsteps had spurred loose debris and scattered their group to the winds.

Behind the monster’s legs was Mabel, her back turned away. Her wreath of brunette curls were unmistakable with the flecks of glitter and craft macaroni sticking in it.

She let out another scream and the monster groaned beside her.

“Mabel!” Pacifica jumped forwards, improperly raising the grappling hook over her head like a cleaver, aiming for the monster’s leg. Dipper would have pointed to Pacifica that that was no way to handle the grappling hook but he was too busy taking a defensive stance to bother correcting her. He inched slowly, carefully towards the monster and Mabel. 

Neither Mabel nor the monster noticed them, even as Pacifica beat at its legs. This only made the creature grunt and scratch the inflicted leg. Underlying her and the monster’s screams was the sound of nineties techno music and men who sounded like twelve-year-olds singing and beatboxing.

Dipper’s look of anguish fell and he stood, blinking, lowering his weapon. “Is that boy band music?”

Mabel whipped her head around in surprise, grinning. “Dipper! Paz!” She sprang up, snatching them both into a bone-crippling hug. 

Pacifica looked just as lost as Dipper, tilting her head at the boombox, and the pile of obviously homemade shoes the size of monster truck tires. 

“You’re okay,” she said. She didn’t know what to think.

“Of course I’m okay!” 

“Mabel.” Dipper began. “We’ve been looking for you for days! Of course we were worried. And all this time you’ve been listening to nineties boybands with a monster?! You never even grew up with that music.”

“I like to listen to the classics,” Mabel explained proudly. Glancing between Dipper’s and Pacifica’s faces, she bit her lip. “Days? Has it really been that long?”

“Yes,” they tersely replied. 

Mabel’s eyes widened, slapping both cheeks. “Do you think it could have been those mushrooms...?”

“Mabel,” Dipper hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry, bro. I was hungee and Steve said he eats them all the time--”

“Who is Steve?” Pacifica asked.

“Oh! Steve is the Ho-down-”

“Hodaq.” Dipper corrected.

Mabel pouted. “Well! Steve is the Hodaq whose footprints we were following. As I thought, he did need a pair of shoes. See, the reason why he was stomping around is he had a splinter the size of a log. So I made him a pair of shoes!” She whipped out two pairs of giant sneakers. “We’re business partners!”

She looked down at Dipper and Pacifica’s feet: Pacifica with her shoes, once pink and purple, now brown and riddled with holes, and then to Dipper whose shoes were worn to the seams as normal, though he normally wore both shoes. He was missing one.

“Hold on! Mabel’s got ya covered.” She hopped into the shoe pile behind her and re-emerged with two human-sized pairs. 

“Boop! Boop!” she said, handing them out. 

“Thanks,” Pacifica said skeptically, turning the sneakers over in her hands. She was grateful, but with all her years buying high quality clothes she instantly noticed the mistakes, and since when was craft macaroni in style?

Dipper shrugged, slipping them on. They were a little loose but his foot was still sore from walking around barefoot. He couldn’t complain.

It was already growing dark, and not wanting to spend another night, hungry and fighting mosquito bites, and dreading the gnomes making a comeback, this time with a ball gag, Dipper and Pacifica helped Mabel pack up her design plans. 

Steve, despite the intimidating feet, was a gentle creature. He didn’t mind all of Dipper’s questions, though Mabel certainly minded.

“Why are you asking him boring junk like migration patterns? No one cares about that. Ask him what his favorite color is! Or his favorite MMM Sink band member.” Dipper did ask those two things, but chose not to include them in his journal later.

Steve was uncomfortable with the idea of all three of them leaving so late and offered them a ride on his back, humming along to Mabel singing MMM Sink’s greatest hits album. Dipper sat in silence, flat on his back. 

“I’ve never felt so tired in my life.” It was something he always said or thought at the end of an adventure. To think, he'd thought this adventure was doomed as soon as Pacifica entered the picture. But it had all gone well in the end; in-between the spats, nearly falling off a cliff, and the gnomes, they had eventually found the monster behind the footprints-- and Mabel. Just as he had hoped. But that wasn’t what made him feel fulfilled and relieved. It was strange. It wasn’t the goal that left him breathless, that he continued to turn over in his mind over and over again. It was Pacifica. The journey with her from the start to now ran through his mind over and over.

He began to drift off to sleep, distantly. He heard Mabel pull a reluctant Pacifica into a duet. Mabel knew all the words, and Pacifica knew almost none, struggling to keep up with her. 

“Whatever. This music is dumb,” Pacifica growled in frustration, annoyed that she couldn’t follow along to the music perfectly. Despite that, she humored Mabel and sang song after song with her. Before he finally fell asleep, Dipper heard Pacifica’s voice lighten, finally singing one of the songs perfectly, word for word. 

X

Mabel was surprised when Pacifica asked if she could take a shower at the Mystery Shack. 

"You do know we don't have your favorite brand of conditioner, right?" Mabel asked skeptically. When Pacifica turned her back she pulled Dipper aside. "Did you swap my girlfriend out with a clone?" Her eyes narrowed. "You would do that, wouldn't you?"

Dipper was about to shake his head, then thought of something better. "Yes. I ran into a much more acceptable version of Pacifica before running into the real Pacifica. It was an easy decision but I--"

Dipper stopped. He was only joking but Mabel was taking it too seriously, tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Of course it's the real Pacifica. Just ask her yourself." He stretched, yawning, making his way upstairs to the attic. 

"Hey, Dip." 

He paused. "Yeah?"

"Um, I know it was probably hard for you... sticking around with Paz." She drew circles on the stair rail, smiling. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Dipper shrugged. The thought of how far his bonding with Pacifica lingering in the back of his mind, nearly edging its way into words. "No problem. Turns out she's not that bad after all."

"Really?!" Mabel gasped, bouncing on her toes. "Yesss! Operation: Agua Elephant Guava Surprise is a success! Karaoke?"

"No. Sleep." He smiled. "But next time. Yeah, definitely."

The door to their room in the attic closed, and the door to the bathroom opened, Pacifica emerging dressed in Mabel's clothes and her hair wrapped up in a towel.

Pacifica didn't care that she had to use cheap soap and shampoo that dried out her hair and skin, or that she had to skip conditioner (because there wasn't any). She was clean and that was all that mattered. The sweat and dirt on her skin was something new and after the initial disgust, had excited her. But after days out in the woods with no shower, being dirty had long lost its novelty. 

"Quick question, Paz. Who is the adorable one here?"

Pacifica chuckled, ruffling Mabel's hair full of twigs. "You of course."

Mabel grappled her to the floor in a hug. "Oh, thank goodness! I was worried Dipper switched you with a clone version of you he could tolerate!"

Pacifica frowned, the dirt caked onto Mabel's clothes rubbing off on her previously clean ones.She gently extricated Mabel from her lap and pushed her into the bathroom. "We can talk more after you shower."

"Or..." Mabel waggled her eyebrows. "You can join me and then we'll talk."

Pacifica pulled the curtain close. "You know if I join you, there won't be any talking at all."

"Okay, you caught me. I don't want to talk."

"Isn't Stan still awake?"

"He won't know if we're quiet." Mabel pawed at her from the other side of the shower curtain. 

Pacifica stepped back, grimacing. The sound of the shower starting and the water running reminding her of the kiss in the stream, how Dipper's mouth was gentle and strong against hers, in contrast to Mabel's fierce and unyielding kisses. How her body still ached to press against his, against all reason. 

"Maybe after you're clean." At that Mabel gave up and Pacifica retreated, closing the door behind her. She glanced around the hallway and heard Dipper snoring upstairs and Stan snoring from the living room nearby. Safe from anyone's eyes, her back slid against the wall, and she fell to the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. 

She would have to tell Mabel what happened. Not eventually when the truth could be muddied with lies and pushed aside into hopeful obscurity. As much as a shower together sounded appealing, she didn't want to accidentally blurt everything out, souring the mood. And it felt wrong to be that intimate with Mabel after cheating on her with Dipper. 

She wondered how her parents had managed to do it-- shrug off their lies like a worn coat and go on with their lives, never worrying about the consequences of their actions. In a way, she was jealous of them and their ignorant bliss. She imagined it was easier, but the temptation to follow in their footsteps wasn't that great. There was always something inside her, something greater that led her away from that. The lumberjack ghost had told her she wasn't like the rest of the Northwests, and as much as she had wanted to fit in with her family back then, his words had made her chest swell with pride. They still did. 

The squeal of the shower head shuddered to a halt, the remaining drops of water falling against the stained porcelain. She heard Mabel's wet footsteps approach and the sound of her drying herself with the towel. Pacifica gathered her composure, standing straight up and dusting the borrowed clothes off. 

The doorknob turned and Mabel's eyebrows shot up, surprised that Pacifica was still standing there. "Oh geez. You didn't have to wait here for me."

Caught off guard, Pacifica flushed. "I didn't?"

"Of course! This is your home too. You coulda gone in the kitchen and made yourself a sandwich or got something to drink."

"Yeah, I guess I could have." Pacifica's skin prickled as Mabel ran a hand over her arm. She leaned forward to kiss her but Pacifica evaded, giving her cheek instead. 

Mabel frowned, sensing something wrong. "You okay, Paz? Did Grunkle Stan fart?"

"Ye-- actually. No. " She took Mabel's hands, not just to soothe her as she said this, but because it may be the last time she could hold her hands. "We need to talk."

Mabel froze. "Right now?"

Pacifica nodded, then glanced at the living room. Stan was still snoring but he could wake any minute. "Not here though. Meet me on the porch?"

Mabel stiffly nodded, half-jogging, half-moping up the stairs to the attic to get dressed, anxious because of Pacifica's words.

She met Pacifica minutes later, wearing a purple sweater embroidered with dancing kittens over her oversized nightshirt. She was wearing knee high rainbow toe-socks and the best smile she could muster, expecting the worst. Whenever her boyfriends had broken up with her in the past, they had always started things off with, "We need to talk."

She sat beside Pacifica. Normally she would sit next to her so that their knees would brush against each other and they could play footsies. But given Pacifica's words, she chose to give Pacifica her space, even if the night air was cold. 

"Mabel..." Pacifica sucked in a breath, staring at her lap, playing with her fingers. "I-- I don't know how to say this."

"You don't have to," Mabel said glumly, turning her knees away from Pacifica. "I already know what you're going to say." The temptation to take a vacation to sweater town was strong. But she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to believe that she was wrong. 

Pacifica's eyes shot up, staring at Mabel, her back turned and shuddering, resisting the urge to cry. "No... you don't." She wrapped an arm around Mabel, pulling her close. "I'm not breaking up with you-- but you might want me to after I tell you this."

Mabel's body relaxed into hers instantly and she laughed. "Why would I ever do that? Are you really a clone? I thought that question was maximum difficulty."

"I'm serious." Pacifica sighed. Her eyes lingered over Mabel's face and she swallowed. "I--" She averted her eyes. "I kissed Dipper."

Mabel shot up from Pacifica's arms. "What?!"

Pacifica flinched, flushed with shame. "Operation: Agua Elephant Guava Surprise went too far. We got along too well."

Mabel stared at her, dumbstruck. "Huh."

"I-- we didn't mean to. It just sort of, like, happened. But I understand if you want to break up."

"And Dipper kissed you back?" 

"...Yes."

"On his own?"

"Yes." These questions were surprising Pacifica. If Mabel was drawing out this breakup she wished she wouldn't. Making it quick and painless would be a blessing.

Mabel tilted her head. "Are you sure we brought the real Dipper back?" She smacked her fist in the palm of her hand. "Darn it! We should have grilled him first!"

"You're not mad at me?" Pacifica asked.

"No. I'm just... wow. Dipper being attracted to someone that isn't Wendy." Mabel laughed. "I was starting to think he was mystery-sexual."

"Are you sure? If you want to break up, now would be a good time. I have a freezer full of chocolate ice cream for such emergencies waiting for me back home."

Mabel hooked her arm around Pacifca, blowing a raspberry. "Nope! You're stuck with me."

"Darn the luck," Pacifica said dryly, but smiled. 

"I mean, yeah, I'd rather you two not go behind my back. But I'm glad you told me." She winked. "I'll let you two have a free pass. I did kinda forget about you and Dipper for a couple of days. But I swear it felt like only four hours! I'm never eating those mushrooms again." She sidled closer to the blonde, batting her eyes. "So... are you two gonna do more smooching now that I've given my seal of approval?"

Pacifica turned beet red. "Um, are you sure? We can do that?" she mumbled.

"Of course you can!" She playfully jabbed her with her elbow, winking excessively. "I know how to share. Wink. Wink."

"You do. But does Dipper?"

Mabel knit her brows. "You have a point... Let's ask him!"

Pacifica rested a hand on Mabel's shoulder, stilling her excitement. "Let him sleep. We should get some sleep too." She stretched, her joints popping. "I'm soooo looking forward to sleeping on a bed."

"Just sleeping?" Mabel purred into her neck.

"Don't you both share the same room?" she asked. Though she wasn't opposed to the idea of Mabel's brother catching them. The very thought made her shudder with delight.

"There's an extra room that doesn't get used a lot." Their fingers threaded together and she kissed the sensitive space between shoulder and neck, ultimately drawing a decision out of her girlfriend.

She followed Mabel inside, as they passed the stairs to the attic she glanced over her shoulder. In the morning they would have breakfast and things would be a less awkward. Maybe she would ask him, bringing up the same possibility Mabel offered, if the moment felt right. 

For now, she had a very eager Mabel to deal with and that was worth her full attention. Though, as Mabel pinned her to the floor, Pacifica wondered if she could handle both twins when she could barely manage with one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and constructive criticism is great.


End file.
